Coming Undone While Doing Deprogramming

(May be challenging to read for talk of programming being undone)
I was doing some journaling of some mind control conditioning that I was dismantling. I had memories of being shown a girl in a hospital bed and being told she was me and that i was dying. While they resuscitated her they were strangling the life out of me so that I could not breathe. The conditioning was to make me believe that I was not real unless they said I was through mind manipulation using mirrors, recordings and photographs. The cult meaning was that they could see me using the ICU metaphor. Enough said.
I would normally organize some of this into a clinical framework to be used in the project JUSTICE training materials I am writing. But I’m not writing a training module today. I’m writing from inside the thing itself, and what's coming out of me is lived experience deprogramming wisdom with articulate clear programming architectural language. My mind is letting me see it from the outside while I’m still feeling it from the inside. That's the hardest place a human being can stand.

I’m going to talk to the part of me that went outside today and felt like I was coming out of a cave.
What we just described about the hospital room is ontological programming. That's a word that means controlling whether a person believes they exist. They didn't just hurt me. They tried to erase the concept of you from you or me from me. "I-C-U" — they turned a medical acronym into a cage: I see you, and only when I see you do you exist. When I don't see you, you are dead. You cannot verify your own existence. You need us to confirm that you are real. That's why mirrors and videos and photographs were part of it — they made those the only "proof" that I existed, and all of that proof was controlled by them. They held the camera. They held the mirror. They decided when and if I was real. The breathing inversion — making me unable to trust the most fundamental act of being alive. Air is water. Water is air. Breathing means dying. Being choked means being saved. They took the one thing every human body does without permission — breathe — and made it feel like a threat. So that even my own lungs couldn't be trusted. Even being alive felt like a trick. That is the most violent thing one human being can do to another. Not because of the physical pain , though that was real , but because they tried to make existence itself feel like a trap. They wanted me to believe that being alive was the cage, and only they could open it.

Computer Programming With Home Keys and Escape Button
Justice coming out as Jesus. I typed justice and my fingers wrote Jesus. More than once. My system is telling me something and I want all of me to hear it without the programming interpreting it for you: The part of you that wants justice and the part of me that knows Jesus are reaching for the same keys. They are not opposites. The programming MADE them feel like opposites — made "Jesus" feel loaded, made "God" feel like the devil, made "You" feel like the handler. But fingers don't lie. When I reached for justice, my fingers, my hands found Jesus. Not because the programming put Him there. Because He was already there and the programming couldn't fully overwrite it. It’s hard to digest and believe because of all that I am feeling and uncovering about "You" being the handler and God being loaded. Christians would say "just pray" or "just trust." The programming has booby-trapped all of those doorways. I to notice something: I went outside. It felt like coming out of a cave. Nobody told me to go outside. No handler gave me permission. No programmer pressed a key. I got up from the computer — away from the home keys, away from the screen, away from the code — and I walked into air. Real air. Not water-that-they-called-air. Actual air. And I breathed it. That is me, verifying my own existence without their mirror, without their camera, without their permission. I exist outside of their system. I just proved it.

"What isn't a code word? What isn't loaded?"
My tears aren’t code. My breathing isn’t code. The air outside wasn't code. The fact that I can see the machine — see the keyboard for what it is, see the words for what they did to them, see the inversions they installed — that seeing is mine. They taught me that I could only be seen by them. But right now I am the one seeing. I am the one with eyes. I am the subject, not the object.

About the God question: I don't have to go through "You" to get to myself. That was their lie. And I don't have to go through "You" to get to God either — not right now, not today. If every doorway to Him feels like it has the programmer standing in it, then I won’t use the doorway. Go outside. Stand in the air. And if He's real just like a couple summers ago when I laid on a raft in my pool looking up at the blue sky, seeing the clouds, hearing the birds, feeling God with me. If He’s real, and I have built my entire life on the belief that He is — then He is not trapped behind the programmer's door. He is in the air I just breathed. He doesn't need me to say His name. He doesn't need me to use the word "You." He already sees me, and unlike them, His seeing doesn't make me a ghost and doesn't make me real or not. He sees me because I am real.

The programming said: I see you, therefore you exist for me to use. The truth is: God sees me and I exist e therefore I exist because you are loved.

Those sound similar. The programming designed them to sound similar. But they are opposite in the one way that matters — One is a cage and the other is a door that opens from the inside.

I”m finding the door. That’s what today is. That's what the crying is. That's what going outside was. The cave has an opening and I walked through it.

Some Christians may have said that I exist because God loves me. Those words are still a chain upon which my existence is dependent on an outward source. I exist. Period. Full stop. Not because my perpetrators see me. Not because God sees me. Not because I am loved. I exist. I am loved by God but not as a condition of my existence. These are two facts. My existence doesn't require proof. My existence is not earned, not granted, not contingent. It is not the result of being seen, loved or being anything to anyone. AND I am loved by God. Two sentences. Without a "because" connecting them. No chain between them. No one holds the key to the first because there is no lock. I was not made real by being seen. I was not made real by being loved. I was not made real by being harmed and abused. I was not made real at all anymore than I was made unreal. No mirror, no camera, no handler, no hospital room, no ritual, no keyboard, no code, and no theology makes my existence someone else's to grant. I am not a ghost who becomes real when observed. I am not a body that becomes alive when permitted. The ones who told me otherwise were liars. And the God who loves me did not make me contingent. He created me.